the weight of his hand in his
by Bookdancer
Summary: Neil never intended to get shot once in his lifetime, let alone twice. (At least this time he has Andrew to hold his hand.) Andreil Week 2019


_A/N:_

_this was written for the 2019 andreil week, day 2: fluorescent lights | deafening sound_

_also thanks to queenofmoons67 (tumblr handle) for beta-ing_

_i do not own the foxhole court, and i've also cross-posted this fic to ao3 (Bookdancer) and tumblr ( bookdancerfics)_

_i hope you all enjoy the fic!_

* * *

the weight of his hand in his

It was a stupid mugging. Nothing Neil or Andrew, let alone both of them, shouldn't have been able to handle, but they'd been a bit preoccupied and intent on ignoring the stranger before he decided to pull a gun on them. The sad thing was, Andrew almost had him. The guy made the stupid mistake of standing too close to a Minyard, and this particular Minyard was armed with at least four knives.

For someone who spent most of his life running, Neil should have known better than to just stand there while his boyfriend took out the mugger, but he didn't think the gun was actually ready to fire.

In the split second before Andrew reached the man, he managed to pull the trigger, a deafening sound rang out, and Neil discovered that he should probably relearn what a gun with the safety off looked like.

"Neil," Andrew said, and Neil looked up at him. Somewhere between the gun going off and Andrew crouching in front of him, he'd slid to the ground, the brick wall of their apartment building behind him. One of Andrew's hands clamped against Neil's side. The mugger lay in the alley beyond Andrew, knocked out cold. Andrew's knives had disappeared.

"Andrew," Neil said. He looked down, staring at the way red slowly leaked out from between his boyfriend's fingers. He looked back up. "I'm fine."

Andrew scoffed and cuffed his chin with his free hand. "Try again, idiot."

Neil groaned, finally feeling the pain start to sink in, and leaned his head back against the wall. "Fuck. I have a game tomorrow."

Andrew glowered at him even as he finally fished his phone out from his back pocket. "Junkie. Not anymore you don't."

Neil watched as Andrew flipped his phone open and pressed some buttons. He snuck a look at the mugger; still knocked out.

"My boyfriend was shot," Andrew said then, and Neil looked back at him to find him staring at Neil's own face. "It was a mugging. Yes," and he rattled off their location before hanging up.

"My savior," Neil said, managing to grin at him.

"Shut up," Andrew said back, but his hand clenched tighter at Neil's side. "205%."

"Andrew," Neil mumbled, as a wave of lethargy swept through him.

"Neil," Andrew deadpanned.

"'m gonna pass out."

"_Neil_," Andrew said again, but Neil's vision was already gone.

* * *

He woke up to a strange motion, like he was weightless but also deadweight at the same time, floating through the air at a speed he had no control over.

When he blinked his eyes open fluorescent lights greeted him, so bright they were almost blinding. They were above him, around him, they were his world and his very existence simultaneously. He squeezed his eyes shut even as whatever was moving him swung him around in a new direction.

"Neil," someone said, and he groaned. He wanted to open his eyes again just for them, but settled for just turning his head to face them. "Open your eyes."

"Mmm," Neil managed.

He cracked his eyes open, just enough for him to look through his eyelashes. A blond cloud hovered above him, gradually sharpening in shape until Neil could make out Andrew's features.

"'kay?" Neil asked. Andrew only scoffed, but Neil smiled. He was fine. And if Andrew was fine, then they both were. Neil vaguely connected the rest of his journey to a stretcher he was on, the hallways he was traveling through, and probably a hospital he was in.

He somehow forced his hand to the edge of the stretcher, opening his fist so his hand lay palm up and his fingers loose. An invitation. As his eyes slid closed again, a soft weight settled on his hand, and his own mouth curled into a smile.

* * *

He woke again, properly, to a weight still resting on his palm. When he opened his eyes the room was dim, the only light coming from a lamp next to his bed. The room was all white, clearly in a hospital, with only one bed. Neil guessed it was the perks of being a famous exy player. Andrew sat in a chair next to the table lamp smelling of cigarette smoke, his eyes shut and his head tipped back to rest on the top of his chair. The only thing betraying that he wasn't completely calm was the white knuckle grip he had on Neil's hand.

Something buzzed, and Neil turned to look at the side table. His and Andrew's phones both sat next to the lamp, and the little window in Neil's had lit up with Matt's name, alerting him to a text. Even as he watched, Andrew's did the same.

As if he had just sensed that Neil shifted, and he probably had, Andrew opened his eyes.

"Neil," he greeted, letting his hand relax and slip from Neil's.

"How bad is it?" Neil asked.

Andrew snorted even as he sat up straight. "Not bad. It grazed your side, but it only bruised your ribs. You passed out from pain, blood loss, or some combination of the two, but the bullet technically never entered your body so you didn't need surgery."

"Lots of stitches, though, I bet," Neil groaned, and poked at his side. A twinge went through it in response, and he hissed.

"Don't touch it."

"Yeah, got that." Neil looked up. "How's the team?"

"Don't be a junkie," Andrew said, but he settled back in his chair all the same. "Your coach called to say to take it easy. You should be out for three to four weeks, but you're lucky you won't be out longer than that. The season is a long one, anyway. Also Kevin said to tell you you're a dumbass and not to get shot next time."

This time Neil was the one to snort. "Right. Okay. And the Moriyamas?"

Andrew shrugged. "Kengo Junior just said the mugger has been taken care of. Apparently he doesn't appreciate his product being damaged."

Neil nodded, then stared Andrew down. "And you?"

Andrew looked back, calm, but Neil could smell the cigarette on him, and it certainly hadn't been there before they got to the hospital.

"Andrew."

He shrugged again. "What do you expect, Josten. I missed."

Neil shook his head. "No, you had him right where you wanted him. I was the one who didn't move. That's on me, not you."

"Right."

Neil narrowed his eyes. "Andrew."

Andrew stared back. "Yes or no?"

Neil blinked in confusion. "Yes."

Slowly, almost as if he were being careful, Andrew leaned forward until his hands rested on either side of Neil's shoulders, his head dipping so close to Neil's that their noses touched. Andrew pressed a kiss to Neil's lips, firm, but Neil could feel the minute trembling and did his best to press back until it went away.

As Andrew settled back in his seat, Neil's forehead wrinkled.

"Andrew," he said. "Are you okay?"

"Of course," Andrew said.

Neil studied him. His lips weren't trembling anymore, Neil had taken care of that, and even as he watched Andrew's expression closed back over.

"Alright," he said, but held out his hand. "Can I hold your hand anyway?"

Andrew rolled his eyes, but took Neil's hand in his.

"Junkie," he said.

Neil grinned even as he nestled back into his mattress and closed his eyes. "You like me that way."

"I like nothing."

* * *

_A/N:_

_the fact that i now have two fics posted where someone gets hurt and ends up in the hospital and their significant other feels guilty about it for various reasons really says something about me, but i'm not entirely sure what it is (the other one is a viktuuri fic, if anyone is interested)_

_also, i have a tumblr account, bookdancerfics, so please feel free to drop by. sometimes i post writing updates_

_and, finally, please comment here! validation is a writer's favorite thing_


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